There's a Storm You're Starting Now
by Suneater
Summary: Annabeth is equipped to handle anything, except for her green eyed best friend who likes to skateboard shirtless and drive her crazy. Mortal AU
1. Chapter 1

**Skater!Percy with a snapback has been going around tumblr and I decided to try my hand at it. Hope you enjoy**

 **Cover art is from anxiouspineapples over on tumblr, go check out her amazing art (and fic)**

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Annabeth flips through her history book, reviewing the sections she needs to review. AP history isn't a joke and she has no plans on treating it as such, which means reviewing the chapters until she has them down perfectly. In the middle of the section on Calvinism she picks out the unmistakable sound of skateboard wheels clattering over sidewalk cracks. Her eyes flick up of their own accord, she has to stop herself from letting out a whimpered groan when she sees him. Biting down on the cap of her pen to keep from embarrassing herself.

It makes sense that Percy would take off his shirt in the August heat, especially since he's just finished basketball practice, but that doesn't make it fair. The snap back he has pulled backwards doesn't help her situation either. Annabeth notes with pride it's the same one she bought him last Christmas, giving herself a lopsided smile around the pen in her mouth.

Summer weekends spent at Montauk have built up his tan to a glorious bronze while summer training and the glories of puberty have honed his muscles to jaw clenching perfection. His shoulders are a bit wider, his chest having filled out enough to define his pecks, and the shadow of a six-pack is starting to appear. Her eyes drink everything in as he makes winds a lazy path towards the stairs she's camped out on. As he gets closer she can spot the slight sheen of sweat, her hand tightening around the pen. Either he won't take a shower and she'll have to deal with him smelling like salt and sweat and the ocean on a hot summer day or he will take a shower and he'll smell of Old Spice bodywash. Neither option is particularly beneficial to her hormone riddled body and she'll be forced to spend the next several hours keeping herself from dragging her hands across his back either way.

Percy hops off and scoops up his board without breaking stride and jogs the last few paces over to her. A few wild strands of jet black hair stick out from under the cap, falling across his forehead in jagged, irregular spikes. At some point during practice or the ride over here his basketball shorts have slipped low on his waist, giving her a view of the tortuous muscle indents that run from his hips and disappear beneath the hem of his boxers. What Annabeth wouldn't do to trace them with her fingers and find out exactly where they lead.

"Hey," Percy says, completely unaware of the mind-numbing fire he's started inside of her.

His expression changes suddenly, face dropping and brows coming together.

"You okay?" he asks, stopping just at the bottom of the stairs. "You look a little dazed."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lies. "Just have some stuff on my mind."

"Anything I can help with?"

 _Oh, Percy_ , she thinks, _the things you could do to help_.

"Nope," she says, pushing herself off the steps and brushing off her skirt.

Percy's eyes drop to her skirt, then her legs, then quickly glance away from her and she watches his Adam's Apple bob. That sure as hell doesn't help the thrum of her blood or the urge to push him against a wall. Annabeth is acutely aware that short skirts have a certain effect on most males, even some females, and that school girl skirts amplify that effect. Her body is also very eager to remind her that Percy is a male and that it could very well have an effect on him. If it does he's good at hiding it, even in basketball shorts.

"Ready to get to studying?" Annabeth asks, pulling her book to her chest.

Percy nods, bounding up the steps while digging in his pocket for his keys. Annabeth uses the opportunity to be sure she hasn't awakened anything inside Percy but there's no obvious signs. She lets out a tiny sigh and follows after him.

All of this would be easier if she knew for sure that Percy's lingering looks and little touches were more than just their years of friendship. Things had been easier when they were twelve and fought each other on the playground, now that they're in high school and her body has decided to betray her by practically salivating over Percy it's difficult to figure things out. Does he sit so close to her while they watch TV because that's what they've always done, or is it because he needs to feel her pressed against him as much as she needs to feel him? Annabeth isn't ready to bet four years of perfect friendship without some solid evidence Percy is interested in her as well.

"How was practice?" she asks, eyes focused on Percy's backside as he climbs the stairs.

"Exhausting. I'm pretty sure Coach is trying to kill us, we're either running drills or running non stop."

"I can tell," Annabeth mutters, her eyes fixed on the very well defined curve of his shorts.

As much as she hates the fact he uses his new growth spurt to tower over her it's made most of his clothes a little snug, something Annabeth can't say she minds.

"Huh?" He turns and glances at her over his shoulder.

"You've seemed more tired recently," she rattles off the lie without a second thought, thankful her mind can cover for her mouth's mistakes.

Percy scrunches up his face and gives her a look but doesn't say anything else. He digs his key out of his pocket and jams it into the lock, throwing the door open with a hard shove before stepping aside to let her in first.

"Thanks," Annabeth mutters as she breaths in the smell of him.

He still smells of salt with a hint of BO, fueling the flames burning in the depth of her mind. That part of her brain that that wants to get him alone in his bed enjoying every second of this.

"I'm gonna grab a shower before we start studying, that okay?"

She nods stiffly in response, not willing to risk her filter letting something embarrassing slip by. Percy drops his skateboard by the door, stepping incredibly close to her as he heads for the bathroom and subjecting her to another wave of raging desire to kiss him. Annabeth decides her approaches to getting him to make the first move are going to have to be more direct.

The sound of the shower starting filters through the bathroom door and Annabeth pulls out her history book, aiming to take advantage of the small reprieve from Percy's ever tempting physique.

Eventually she manages to tune the noise out all together, honing in on her readings and jotting down notes. She's too focused on her work to realize Percy is done with his shower, or that he's back in the living room until he's hovering over her.

"Earth to Annabeth," he says nearly in her ear, startling her.

She tenses to move back but she can feel his chest pressing against her shoulders, his arms bracketing either side of her as he leans against the coffee table. Once again he's elected not to wear a shirt so the only thing separating them is the thin layer of her white uniform. She takes in the smell of his body wash and deodorant, which envelop her. Equal parts of her want to lean back into him and bolt away.

"I didn't realize you were so interested in AP history," she says tensely.

"Ugh," he groans. "No thanks." Percy pushes back and walks around her, sinking into the couch to her right.

He's traded his basketball shorts for a pair of dark skinny jeans, once again riding low on his hips and giving her an all access pass to feast de la abs. Her mind starts to wander for a second, imaging what it would be like to straddle his lap and run her hands along every inch of him she can reach. Annabeth shuts down the daydream before a blush can start to rise in her cheeks and turns back to the stale, boring facts of her textbook.

"Don't you have Algebra to work on?"

Percy groans again, slouching down further on the couch.

"I don't think that's helping," she chides, turning the page and staring blankly at the words.

"Fine," Percy huffs, sitting up and reaching past her to grab his bag on the other side of the table.

Annabeth catches sight of his hair as he leans forward, the disheveled mess sticking out in odd directions.

"Come here," she says, dropping her pencil.

She slips her fingers through his hair, pulling the strands into place and making the messy bedhead look into a cute, messy bedhead look. When she's done she cracks a satisfied smile, her eyes dropping to his. It's only then that she realizes he's scooted forward until he's on the edge of the couch, his eyes locked on hers. They're close enough it wouldn't take much, just a little lean from both of them and they'd be kissing.

Suddenly Percy clears his throat and jumps backwards.

"Tomorrow I was gonna go skateboarding after school. You could come hangout if you want."

Annabeth imagines an hour spent watching Percy shirtless while she holds a book in her lap and squeezes her thighs together. Knowing him he'll decide he doesn't need a shirt, and he'll have to check on her every ten minutes to see if she's okay, and he'll sit entirely too close for her sanity, and by the end of it she still won't have any better of an idea if the idiot is actually into her or not. She also knows she wouldn't pass up the opportunity for anything.

"Sure. That'd be fun."

Percy beams and digs into his back to pull out his work, leaving Annabeth to turn back to her work and keep herself from dropping face first onto the table with a groan. She wonders if anyones ever died of an abundance of sexual tension, or if she'll be the first.


	2. Chapter 2

**If an of you are curious you can find me on tumblr as spooky-son-of-rome up until November when I'll go back to son-of-rome**

Seventeen minutes. That's all the time it takes before Percy slips his shirt off, tugs at the waistband of his jeans, and shatters Annabeth's illusion of productivity. He's far enough away that she doesn't worry about him hearing the groan she emits as she clamps her hands down on her Pre-Calc book and squeezes. The boy was built just to vex her, to unravel her stitch by stitch until there's nothing holding her together but her frustration collapsing in on itself. She imagines him skating by close enough to knock him on his ass and kiss him hard. The thought of his look of shock and complete surprise helps her feel a bit better, at least he'd be suffering too.

Percy tucks his shirt into his back pocket and remounts his board, kicking off hard while aiming for the closest rail. He nails the grind, only wavering slightly, and lets out a little whoop of triumph. On his way back to his group of friends he turns and gives her his stomach flipping, pulse quickening, trouble maker grin. Now she swears she's going to knock him on his ass, just to make all of this a little more fair.

Annabeth ducks her head back to her book, trying to concentrate on the problem she'd been in the middle of solving when Percy had decided to derail any non-sexual train of thought. She stares at the problem, fighting her dyslexia to get the equation to make sense but it's basically useless. She could pour all of her will into working on homework but it's all for nothing when there's a certain half dressed green-eyed boy on the loose. In a desperate attempt to calm her completely frayed nerves she takes a deep breath, holding it for a second before letting it out. She lifts her head and fixes her eyes on him, watching as he stops to talk to one of his skater friends for a second.

Part of her came to the realization long ago that if this were anyone else she wouldn't put up with it. That she'd have forced him into a situation where he'd have to make his feelings abundantly obvious. Annabeth is armed with brains, body, and has access to this school uniform, she could destroy the boy if she wanted. This is only highlighted by the fact that three of the other guys at the skatepark keep stealing glances at her, their eyes tracing over her for a second before quickly turning away. The issue is that none of these eyes are a perfect ocean green, none of them are Percy's.

She watches him make another lap around the park, hitting a few tricks and winding his way between obstacles. Her eyes take in every inch of him, picking out the ripple of muscles in his back and the roll of his shoulderblades. Sometime during all of this her lower lips ends up pinched between her teeth, her jaw sliding forward and back to massage the ache out of it. Somehow Percy has become a physical ache, a need strong enough she could drown herself in him if she didn't constantly remind herself to breath. Annabeth's never had him, not like she really wants, desperate and breathless with all of that nervous energy buried under his skin focused on her. He's never worked little moans and noises out of her, taken her apart under his fingertips and let her completely lose herself in him but he's still in her blood. Coursing through her veins until she's sure she's nothing but want and desire, burning away everything until she's nothing but his. What she wouldn't give to dig her fingers into him, to sink into him until she's branded herself onto him and he could never be anything but hers.

He stops to wait with some of the other guys, his arms lifting above his head and fingers intertwining before settling on the top of his snapback. The muscles in his arms tense, defining every edge and curve in the afternoon sun. He laughs at something she's not paying attention to, his smile another blow to her self control. It would be fitting if she died here, stuck down by a bolt of lightning to rest in peace beside whatever last hopes she had of not being completely head over heels for this boy. Every part of him, his hands, arms, shoulders, chest, smile, eyes, all seem to have been hand sculpted by Aphrodite herself with the sole intent of doing all of this to Annabeth. Turning her to a mass of rattled nerves, pounding heart, and burning flesh.

She's beyond tired of being on the defensive, of watching and suffering, while never dishing it back out to him. Annabeth aims to change that. She quickly untucks her white button down shirt, undoes the top two buttons, and tugs at the collar before leaning forward. Her elbows rest on her knees that are pressed together and her palms cup her chin. Her eyes fix on Percy with and she stares him down, her eyes burning with the promise that if she got her hands on him she'd ruin him.

It takes a few seconds but he feels the heat of her gaze and turns to look at her, his eyes widening and Adam's Apple bobbing. Percy's too busy focusing on her to remember he's on a moving skateboard and slams into a waist high railing, winding up on his ass while his board sails across the cement. Annabeth breaks into a wry smirk, keeping her eyes locked on him as he bounces up and dusts himself off. She can spot the blush in his neck and face from here, the heat in her stomach surging.

Annabeth revels in her victory, savoring the feeling of having had his eyes soaking her in as if trying to burn the image into his brain. Now that she has his attention she moves on with her plan, dropping her head as if to return to her work and throwing her right leg over her left while turning slightly. The combined effect hitches her skirt up higher, giving Percy a view of every inch of leg she can reasonably get away with showing while seeming uninterested. If her last play made him run into a railing, this one will likely cause him to break an arm.

She keeps her head down for a few minutes, ignoring the urge to look up and find out what idiotic look Percy has plastered on his face. The thrill of it, of knowing she's tormenting Percy as much as she's been tormented starts to get to her. It starts as a slight hum of her nerves, then a singing in her blood, finally building into a full force rushing of adrenaline and power. When she can't stand it any longer she slowly lifts her head, keeping her eyes blank and innocent. She finds him sitting with his friends on a brick wall, his skateboard laying at his feet while he leans forward. His elbows rest on his knees and his hands are balled into fists that press together, the muscles in his arms pulled taut. She wants to smile, to grin over the fact she knows exactly what she's doing to him and how good it feels. The smile almost reaches her lips before she catches his eyes and the burning heat behind them.

She'd expected his eyes to linger on her, for there to be some amount of tension and frustration behind them but the look he's giving her is far beyond that. This isn't the heat of schoolboy infatuation or teenage arousal, Percy stares at her with the conviction or zealotry. His eyes burn like a wildfire, hungry to lick up anything they can reach. Eager to burn hot and fierce and demanding, to raze her until there is nothing left but the ashes left behind by what he's consumed. The only thing she can feel is the fire that's raging inside of her, burning from her center outwards. Her heart is a reverberating pounding that echos in her ears and chest, drowning out the world around her. She should have known this game was a double edged sword, that whatever she did would only come back around to her in the end and now that's she won she's not sure she should have played in the first place. Because she can't pretend Percy is just out of reach anymore.

Annabeth crumbles, whatever strength she had when she started this is gone, swept away in the tide of his gaze and leaving her gasping for air. She slams her book closed, snatching up her bag and bolting. If she stays, if she gives into the look he's giving her she won't be able to come back from it. She'll never be able to look at Percy and see anything other than that fire in his eyes that claims her as his own.

She doesn't make it three paces before he calls out for her, shouting her name to stop her. Stopping won't do her any good, it'll only lead to looking to his eyes and searching for that fire again and she's not sure if she still wants it to be there or not.

"Annabeth!" His voice booms, cutting through the clatter of boards and idle conversation.

Her response is to duck her head and hurry her pace. She's nearly made it to the edge of the park when there's a scrape of wheels on concrete just behind her, her jaw clenches and she braces herself. A skateboard goes flying past her as a hand grabs onto her hip with an almost bruising pressure, Percy whips around her. His moment throws him forward and in front of her, his hand pulling her forward until she's pressed against her chest.

His heart pounds through his chest, a warmth radiating off of him and seeping into her bones. They're pressed together, chest, hips, thighs intertwined, everything she's dreamed and hoped of. Percy's chest rises and falls in time with her own, quick, short breaths that meld in the space between them until there's nothing but them to breath in.

"Annabeth," he says her name like a wish, his voice breathless and husky.

She tilts her head up, steeling herself for whatever hides behind his eyes but the fire is still there and it melts through her in a second. Two years of buildup have brought them here, forced them into whatever this is, and Annabeth knows this is the tipping point. Whatever happens next will change everything.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you for all of your reviews of the last two chapters. I'm really glad people are enjoying this story.**

 **A special thanks to somethingmorecreative1 for her help with this part**

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Percy hits the railing hard enough that if he wasn't already breathless, he'd have had the wind knocked out of him. He feels his board go flying out from under him while he falls backwards and lands on his ass without any dignity. There's soft laughter coming from behind him, but that's not what Percy's worried about; he's more focused on the smile spreading across Annabeth's face. He pushes himself up off the ground, dusting the dirt off his jeans and keeping his eyes locked on her. For some reason, he feels that if he looks away, if he takes his eyes off her for one second, he'll realize it was just in his head. That Annabeth isn't looking at him like she'd happily devour him piece by piece, which Percy can't say he's exactly opposed to.

If the run in with the railing has done any damage to him he doesn't notice, he could probably run face first into a truck and not notice because Annabeth was giving him that look. Not the 'gods you annoy me' look or the 'you're my best friend but you're an idiot' look but _that_ look. It's a look he's had an embarrassing number of embarrassing dreams about, where the girl with the golden curls and the breathtaking grey eyes falls for the dork who likes the color blue too much and watches Finding Nemo too often. It's a look he's woken up in the middle of the night gasping and breathless from, even though he's only dreamed it. A look that just wiped his mind blank of everything but her name and the little moments he has an excuse to press himself against her.

He's never claimed to be the brightest kid but Percy knows his best friend is drop-dead gorgeous. She's miles of long, perfectly tanned legs, flowing curls, freckled shoulders, and soft skin. Her school uniform doesn't help either, because gods does he have a love-hate relationship with that uniform. The one she shows up to his house in almost every day, forcing him to pretend that homework is oh-so much more appealing to look at than her. The one that is the bane of his teenage existence and the thought of getting her out of it is probably something he spends more time thinking about than is reasonably healthy.

So when she lifts one leg over the other and turns away from him, his throat turns thick, and he's pretty sure he's actually dead. Because nothing, _nothing_ that perfect could honestly exist outside of his wildest dreams. Almost every inch of her California tanned legs is on display, and if he ever had any hope of managing to keep her from the fantasies that plague him every waking moment, it melts away. Percy is screwed, undoubtedly, unreasonably, unfathomably screwed, because he's in love with his best friend.

He stays rooted to the spot far longer than he'd care to admit, his eyes lingering on her. It takes someone riding past him in order to get him to snap out of his trance, peeling his eyes off of her long enough to find his beat up skateboard and retrieve it. There's not a chance he could focus on continuing to skate even if he wanted to, not with Annabeth just sitting there and driving him out of his mind.

Percy flops down onto the brick wall where everyone gathers to wait their turn for their runs, tucking his board under his feet and keeping his eyes on Annabeth. Part of him wishes he knew when this had all started, when everything had gone to hell in a handbasket for him. He wishes he could go back, stop himself from ever falling this far into the rabbit hole but that feels pointless. This is Annabeth Chase, the golden girl, a perfect student and stellar athlete who will one day go on to be president or run her own company. He was doomed the moment she fixed her grey eyes on him when they were twelve.

There's nothing he can do but stare at her, he doesn't have the willpower or desire to look away. Percy's lived the past two years in a state of constant frustration, never seeming to get enough of Annabeth and always getting more than he can handle. It's been two years of trying not to drool over her while she sits on his living room floor and chews at her pen absent mindedly. There are times she'll become so focused on her work that she doesn't notice him watching, taking in all in. She'll sit with her legs tucked under her, skirt falling to mid thigh, small strands of hair having fallen free of her ponytail, staring at her textbook with a slight crease in her brow. When he's sure she won't notice the desperation on his face, he lets himself daydream about sliding off the couch and tucking the strands of hair behind her ear, pushing the pen away from her mouth and replacing it with his lips. Kissing her until she leans into him, her hands on his chest and her lips moving with an eagerness that matches the energy radiating from his bones. Sometimes he lets the fantasies run a little longer, imagining pulling her onto his lap while his hands skim her thighs. His fingers slipping under her skirt and move until his thumbs can hook under the hem of her panties and the balls of his hands press into the bones of her hips. He never stops kissing her in these dreams, barely breaking long enough to gulp down air before diving back into her. Percy imagines falling into the depths of these feelings until he's breathless and dazed, but he always has to come back up for air. Afterwards, he ducks his head in shame, regret boiling inside him for imagining her like that.

He figured out a long time ago that he's helpless. So far into the quicksand of feelings for his friend that he's never getting back out. Fighting it never helps, because just when he's stopped the loop of fantasies, smiling and laughing with her like normal, she'll press her leg against his or laugh at one of his lame jokes and he's gone. Back neck-deep in the world of falling over himself just to get her to laugh again, just to touch her hand or feel her skin burning against his.

Slowly, painfully, he lets himself slip into another fantasy. One where he finally has the courage to go to her, to place his fingers under her chin and tilt it back until her eyes meet his and he finally kisses her. Fantasy Annabeth will wrap her arms around his neck and pull him in tighter, keeping the kiss going until he's been drowned in it. If only he could drown himself in her, in the smell of lemons and taste of strawberry chapstick. Every day he feels like he's lost in a desert, searching for some way out and the only thing keeping him going are these teasing illusions, things that are always just out of reach, never to actually have, but feeling so real. Percy lets himself enjoy this illusion he's building, because there has to be something true to it. Annabeth, who never does anything that's not a part of a plan, had given him that look. She'd stared him down with a hunger in her eyes that had followed him, _him_. He curls his hands into fists and struggles to grasp just what the hell is happening between them, because it couldn't have been what it was. It couldn't have been Annabeth _wanting_ him.

It doesn't occur to him that she's glanced up from her work, or that the smug look she'd been carrying in her eyes is suddenly gone until she's jamming her book into her bag and standing up. Percy's heart lurches, she'd caught him. Annabeth had looked right at him and found him staring at her, fantasizing about her, and figured it out. She's always been smarter than him, always picked up on things faster, and there's no way she could have missed that. He has to stop her, has to find a way to explain and apologize because if she walks away now he could lose her. That's not something he can accept, not something he can handle. Being in love with his friend and having her just beyond the tips of his fingers is a pain he's learned to live with, not having her at all is something that would kill him.

He shouts after her but she doesn't stop, dropping her head and hurrying forward instead. He yells again, pushing his skateboard forward and kicking hard. It only takes a second to cover the distance between them and just before he reaches her, he sees her shoulders tense.

Percy doesn't stop bother to slow down, stepping off the board and being thrown forward. His hand latches onto Annabeth's hip, and he accidentally tugs her forward, pulling her against him. The pounding of his heart runs through his bones and tendons until his body sings with it, thrumming in time to the rush in his ears. So much of her is pressed against him, too much. Her chest, arms, hands, hips, all of it melding into his senses, and it's all he can feel. His thigh is tucked between her legs, and he hopes she can't feel the shaking in his knees.

"Annabeth," he says, desperate to tell her anything, everything, but doesn't know where to start.

How does he tell her that he's madly in love with her, that he'd watch the world go down in flames if only to hold her like this again? How does he explain that she's the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes, the first thing when he opens them, and everything he dreams of in between?

He can see it too, how easy it would be for that moment he's wanted more than anything to be this moment. She lifts her head, eyes softening and burning into him. Percy wants to do it, wants to finally pluck up the courage to take the chance and see if this, if they, can be anything, but his years of dreaming are for nothing. The words flow too slowly, too heavy and cumbersome to make it through his too thick throat or off his too dry tongue. For a wonderfully brief moment the chance burns into existence, but it crumbles away so quickly, too hot and fierce to last more than a second. It's dying like the final embers of a fire he's too afraid to feed, and he's resigned to letting it puff away. But Annabeth isn't. There's a burning determination in her eyes and she lifts up onto her toes, fingers curling against his chest as her lips meet his.


	4. Chapter 4

Percy glares at his math homework, wondering who came up with this torture and who decided it was a good idea to teach it to teenagers. He's been stuck on this problem for twenty minutes, and he's ready to shove the book off of the coffee table. To attempt to ease his frustration, he takes a deep breath, but that only causes him to catch the scent of lemons. Percy groans softly and turns to Annabeth, who's sitting in her normal spot. She's chewing on one of her many pens while reading some boring facts out of her boring book about her boring AP class. Everything is exactly as it's always been, she's still his best friend, still spends almost every day at his house, still wears that ridiculous uniform, and still torments the ever-living shit out of him.

Because the issue with kissing his best friend is that now everything is more real, more tangible. The fantasies he still drifts off into when she's sitting so close to him that he can smell the lemon shampoo she uses, hear the rustle of her skirt fabric, practically taste the strawberry chapstick, are so much more now. Because now there's a kiss to compare it to. A lip searing, clammy hand inducing, mind-blanking perfect kiss. Percy knows what it's like to have her pressed against him, her chest rising and falling as she sucks in the air her lungs must be desperate for. He's seen her eyes flutter closed the moment before, and remain closed the second after, she kisses him. All of this makes it impossible not to think about kissing her again, about pressing his fingers against her skin, about plunging head first into her just one more time.

If the kiss haunts her as much as it does him, she doesn't show it, working away at her homework as if nothing has changed. Percy hates it, hates this is what he's reduced to, but there's nothing he can do about it now. He kissed his best friend, the girl he's been absolutely crazy about for years, and there's not exactly a way to go back from that. So this is what Percy's left with, the continued torture of having her always around. Living in a broken loop of half true, half fulfilled fantasies, fantasies which only grow worse every day.

It doesn't help that after the kiss at the skatepark they'd become official, even going on their first date. Giving Annabeth the title "girlfriend" has seemed to only increase everything, as if any of the vague fuzziness has been scrubbed away to leave raw, fresh feelings. Ones that Percy's very eager to explore, he's just not sure what the acceptable waiting time is before you start leaving hickies on your girlfriend, or doing other things to her. It's just that it's so difficult to _not_ to think about that.

Yesterday, he'd thought about kissing his way down her neck, down the exposed skin of her chest, shucking up her skirt, and diving between her legs. The idea comes seeping back into his mind, an empty ache that starts in the hollow of his gut and clings to his muscles. He wears this now, a weight that clings to him just below his skin and drives him mad. Percy's felt the waters for the briefest of moments and wishes he could lose himself in them, in _her_. He wishes he knew what it felt like to have her fingers curling in his hair, her hips bucking against him, her lips singing his name. He wants to feel a fire between them that burns until it's the only thing that matters, the only thing that exists. He wants her come undone under his touch. Part of him wonders what she'd taste like, if he could unravel her with just his tongue.

"What?" she demands, voice stern. Annabeth lifts her head, eyes hard and searching. "What are you thinking about?"

Percy feels the heat rush up his neck, but he can't help that his eyes drop to her crossed legs that stretch out under the table, or that his tongue darts out to lick his lips. Her eyes widen slightly, lips just barely parting, and her chest rising.

"No," she says firmly. "That's- no."

He catches the way her knuckles turn white around her pen.

"I'm not taking advantage of the fact you're mom's leaving us alone in her house." Annabeth turns back to her book, flipping the page and running her eyes over the fresh words. Her lips move slightly, and he could swear she mutters something along the lines of 'at least not yet' and he grins.

"Shut up and finish your homework," she says, eyes still on her work.

"Fine." Percy turns back to his homework, but his mind isn't on math. It's on having her on the table in front of him, her legs spread, his hands running over the skin of her sides. It's easy to get lost in the idea of it, the idea of her panting his name. He wonders what it would take to have her pant his name, what spots he would have to kiss, to press his fingers against her breath to hitch in her throat.

He should be thinking about his math homework, but it feels like a much better use of his time to imagine getting his girlfriend off. That seems like a task worthy of his talents and skills. She's been swollen lipped and breathing heavily already, wrapped in his arms which slightly lift her off the ground. Percy wishes he was taking anatomy instead of algebra, that's a subject he'd be more than happy to practice with a partner.

Annabeth's always been composed and put together, which makes the idea of her losing herself in his lips so much more exciting. The Annabeth everyone else sees is steel-eyed and determined. The Annabeth he knows worries all the time, gets hurt but tries to hide it, and absolutely hates crying in front of others. The Annabeth he wants to get to know better is the one with fire in her eyes and hunger in her kiss, who's fingers curl into his skin as if to bury herself inside him. This new Annabeth is also _definitely_ worth getting to know.

Percy's ready to give up on his homework all together when Annabeth climbs onto the couch. She swings a leg over him, her thighs pressing in on his waist and her arms resting on his shoulders. His heart rate doubles, every inch of his skin starts to feel so much warmer. All he can focus on is that her skirt has ridden up her legs, and that the top three buttons of her shirt have just _happened_ to come undone.

"So," her voice is thick and husky. "What exactly were you thinking about?" There's a teasing grin on her face.

A small, frustrated groan slips out of his throat. He tosses his pencil, hearing it clatter across the table, and leans up to kiss that smug look off her face. Her lips are still as soft and perfect as ever, shattering his resolve like glass. Slowly, his hands move to her waist, then slide behind her and settle onto her ass. He gives her a firm squeeze, enjoying her hiss into his lips and letting himself smile. Annabeth's retaliation is to weave her fingers his hair and deepen the kiss, her tongue running across his lips. Percy gives into all of it, her lips moving against his, the way her tongue teases his own, her hands digging into his hair and back. Everything he has he pours into the kiss, building to that moment they'll have to break apart and fight for air. He lives for these moments now, when his chest feels as if it will burst, when the world is swept away until all that's left is the feeling of her, when he can lose himself in his girlfriend and what she drags out of him.

His homework won't get done but it doesn't matter, there are more important things to focus on. Soon enough she'll be breathless and gasping, her eyes pinched closed as he kisses his way down her neck to taste every inch of exposed skin he can reach. She'll throw her head back, lip tucked between her teeth, and her hips will start to slowly work in little circles. Percy already tingles with the feeling of it, the tension that will build in their bodies. It will drive them forward, send them spiraling towards that perfect oblivion, and it will only deepen this hunger that grows inside him with every passing day but he doesn't care. What he cares about is the girl on his lap, the one pressed against him until there's barely room. All that matters is the fact that he gets to wrap his arms around her, to twist his fingers between hers, and press his lips to hers. All that matters is that he loves her.

Because the good thing about kissing his best friend, is that she kissed him back and he ended up up with everything he ever dreamed of.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you all for reading, this is the last chapter and sadly the fic is over but you can always come by my tumblr son-of-rome and see what else I'm up to**


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